


wake me up beside you

by FantasySwap



Series: wake me up beside you [1]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:21:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasySwap/pseuds/FantasySwap
Summary: Out of everyone in their strange little band of misfits, Simon is the one Nathan knows the least about. Ironic as it is considering all the (arguably negative) attention he has paid the kid, he doesn’t think anyone has ever really had a conversation with him long enough to find out anything of importance. Other than the fact that he apparently tried to burn someone’s house down, Simon is a complete mystery.





	wake me up beside you

Out of everyone in their strange little band of misfits, Simon is the one Nathan knows the least about. Ironic as it is considering all the (arguably negative) attention he has paid the kid, he doesn’t think anyone has ever really had a conversation with him long enough to find out anythingof importance. Other than the fact that he apparently tried to burn someone’s house down, Simon is a complete mystery.

 

‘Weird kid’ is definitely one of the more apt nicknames Nathan has given him, for sure.

 

The truth is, Simon’s ability doesn’t necessarily make a huge difference. As far as Nathan knows, Curtis and Alisha don’t pay him any attention; Kelly has a strange sort of unspoken agreement to look out for him but other than that, Simon is practically invisible anyway. Which accounts, Nathan likes to argue, for all the shit Nathan puts him through. He’s just doing the kid a favour, giving him a little attention. The little freak probably enjoys it anyway, if his hero worship towards Nathan is anything to go by.

 

Overall, the group seems to unanimously, silently decide that Simon is the least interesting, least threatening member of their little clique.

 

Which is why it’s so interesting to see the kid being frog marched into their new probation worker’s office by two official police officers in uniform. His wrists aren’t handcuffed but they’re being gripped so tightly that Nathan is sure there’ll be bruises there tomorrow, and he’s keeping his head down resolutely so as not to make eye contact with the others.

 

The others freeze as soon as the doors swing open. Police officers aren’t exactly the thing young offenders want to see, but as far as they known no one has done anything arrest-worthy that would warrant a visit from the fuzz. So that bears the question: what has the weird kid done now?

 

“That’s something you don’t see everyday.” Nathan says what they’re all no doubt thinking, straightening up. They’re in the community centre, rifling through a mountain of old charity case clothing. Nathan doesn’t know how he’s going to survive another six weeks of this, even if the freaky kid is somewhat entertaining to observe. Alisha is the next one to react, whistling under her breath as Curtis mutters, “the fuck?” Kelly is the only one to keep quiet, probably having already read Simon’s thoughts and figured out what’s going on.

 

“C’mon then,” Nathan encourages, flicking an old pair of socks at her. “What’d he do?” The others all turn to shoot Nathan a dirty look, although afterwards they all turn to Kelly for an explanation. That’s what Nathan hates about this lot; they all have the same thoughts but they’re all too much of a bunch of pussies to voice their thoughts. Nathan’s the only one willing to say what they’re obviously all thinking.

 

Kelly pulls a face at him and groans. “Fuck off,” she complains, but Nathan doesn’t miss the way she keeps glancing over her shoulder at Shaun’s office. They work in relative silence after that, the atmosphere having shifted but no one wanting to acknowledge that it’s actually the lack of the weird kid that’s dragging the mood down.

 

Half an hour has gone past by the time Simon re-emerges, stumbling, out of the office with Shaun sauntering behind him. Simon’s fists are clenched and he looks tense under that baggy orange jumpsuit; he looks, Nathan realises, like he’s fighting the urge to turn invisible. They’ve just reached the now - barely - reduced pile of clothing when Shaun reaches out and shoves Simon’s shoulder.

 

It’s only a light push but Simon looks shaky enough on his feet as it is, and the kid falters. Nathan steps forward without thinking, reaching out to catch Simon’s wrists before he face plants, and Simon’s hands end up splayed out on Nathan’s chest, steadying himself.

 

“Watch it!” Nathan exclaims, conscious of Kelly readying herself for an attack on Shaun. Nathan only just manages to keep from rolling his eyes. What makes the little freak so fucking special that Kelly has to hold his hand all the goddamned time anyway? He steps backwards so abruptly that Simon only just manages to find his footing and stay upright— he doesn’t thank Nathan and, for whatever reason, Nathan doesn’t point this out.

 

“You,” Shaun says in his familiarly monotone voice, pointing at Nathan. “Shut up. And you,” pointing at Simon this time. “If I hear you so much as sneeze you’re gonna be back in that office with the fucking police on their way. Capiche?”

 

“Aye aye, captain.” Nathan mocks, compensating for the awkward silence that would almost definitely otherwise ensue. Simon doesn’t look in much of a mood for talking.

 

Shaun pisses off thankfully, allowing them to fuck about in pretty much whatever way they want. Simon remains silent for the rest of the day but every now and again Nathan will chance a look over at him and find him staring at the clock, the muscle in his jaw ticking uncontrollably. Maybe the kid really did go and murder someone. It’s not like Nathan would be surprised if he did turn out to be a serial killer.

 

It takes another three hours before Nathan finds out what Simon is in the shit for, and ironically enough it’s Shaun who enlightens him this time. Alisha and Curtis have already left - and there really isn’t any intrigue behind that particular mystery - leaving Simon, Kelly and Nathan behind in the changing room. Shaun comes in just as Kelly is zipping up her jacket.

 

“Right,” he sighs, one thumb jerking violently over his shoulder whilst with the other hand he gestures rudely at Nathan and Simon. “You two, my office. Now.”

 

Simon swallows and doesn’t look up from the floor, doing that freaky nervous hair-patting-down motion he does whenever he’s stressed or about to cry. Nathan can’t resist having another dig.

 

“Yes sir,” he sneers sarcastically. “Are you gonna call my parents too? Spanking is illegal these days, you know.” Kelly rolls her eyes as she leaves. Nathan watches her go with a sort of fond indifference.

 

“What’s all this about then?” Nathan asks when they’re in Shaun’s office. He sits in the middle of the small sofa opposite Shaun’s desk, knees spread far apart, and drapes his own leg over Simon’s leg when the boy huddles into the far corner of the couch.

 

“Is this gonna be like another of them group therapy sessions?” Nathan continues pushing. “No offence or anything but I’d rather eat my own—”

 

“Shut the fuck up.” Shaun says, once again jabbing a finger aggressively into Nathan’s face. “You threw a brick at your old probation worker’s car.” Aggressively pointing finger turns on Simon now. “And _you_ attacked a school kid. You’re lucky I was able to talk them out of extending your probation; I don’t want to spend one more minute than I absolutely have to with you ugly fucks. But if that means that once a week you have to come into this room and sit down and talk about your feelings, then you’re gonna come here, sit down and talk about your fucking feelings. Understood?”

 

There are a lot of things Nathan could say to this. He could comment on the fact that Simon - melon fucking, panty sniffing Simon - beat up a kid. He could make a complaint about how Shaun probably isn’t even going to be here when they do it, because c’mon. It’s Shaun. He’s not going to listen to them talking about their fucking feelings. What he actually says is, “Actually, I’d rather just eat my own—”

 

“Get out.” Shaun says. Nathan gets.

 

***

 

“So you beat up a kid, huh?” Nathan flops down onto his shabby mattress, rattling a discarded can of beer and deciding that getting drunk is a better plan than refusing to risk his health on however-old-this-is beer. Simon sits awkwardly next to him, his legs hanging through the railings and dangling over the edge. He looks, in this light shrouded in shadows, particularly secretive.

 

The thing is, it’s not like Nathan has never realised how attractive the weird kid is. He has. Simon is cute in an inexperienced, innocent way with his dark hair and his big blue eyes and his enviably sharp jawline. But Nathan has never slept with anybody that wasn’t either drunk or just looking for a hook up, and Simon is the last person that would be looking for either of those things.

 

Plus Nathan had a hard enough time coming to terms with the fact that he’d shag a chav. It’s going to take more than a pretty face to convince him to take the panty sniffing, melon fucking, serial killing, fire lighting weird kid’s virginity. Or at least a lot of vodka. Like, a shit ton.

 

“He was seventeen.” Simon replies moodily, still not making eye contact with Nathan. Nathan had offered him a beer when they’d first reached his make shift bedroom but Simon had taken one look at the place and politely declined. Nathan doesn’t really blame him.

 

“Still,” Nathan whistles. “Bashing a kid can bring you real jail time, man.” Nathan specifically remembers an occasion about a week ago where he had a face off with a particularly aggressive sixteen year old, but for the purpose of getting under Simon’s skin he decides to leave that story out of this conversation.

 

Simon glances at him for the first time that evening, eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his mouth tugged down in a confused, unhappy frown. “Nathan,” He says slowly. “You know I’m eighteen, right?”

 

Nathan had not known this.

 

In fact, Nathan had been so unaware of this that he’s having trouble accepting that Simon is in fact two years younger than him, still a teenager, probably still in fucking secondary school, and yet still manages to be the most middle aged person Nathan knows.

 

“No _way_ ,” he replies.

 

“I— I have said this before, Nathan.” Simon stutters sadly. Nathan brushes away this remark with a wave of his hand, reluctant to look into Simon’s vaguely disappointed eyes.

 

“Yeah whatever, I probably wasn’t listening. You’re eighteen? Really? You’re a baby!” Nathan cries gleefully, pulling himself into a sitting position and sloshing his beer all over his lap in the process. Simon looks kind of put out by Nathan’s gloating.

 

“I’m only two years younger than you.” He points out crossly. “I’m only one year younger than Alisha. I think it’s safe to say I’m more mature than any of you.”

 

Nathan will neither deny nor confirm this, but an embarrassing incident involving the vending machine comes to mind and he wouldn’t feel confident arguing against Simon on that particular point.

 

“So… what? Do you go to school?” Nathan asks. Simon blinks, probably surprised that someone is taking a genuine interest in him.

 

Because this is genuine. It’s the strangest thing and Nathan can’t explain it, but he wants to know about Simon. He really does want to sit here and spend his evening drinking stale beer and talking to Simon about school, and homework and Battlestar Galactica if that’s what it is that he wants to talk about. Weird.

 

“I took online courses until I passed. I think I’d like to go to film school once I’m finished with community service. Editing clips together, things like that.” Simon seems to be able to talk more freely now that he doesn’t think Nathan is going to prank him at any second.

 

“Figures,” Nathan leers. “What with the way you’re always filming me and my hot body.” Nathan places a hand on Simon’s knee and jokingly runs it up his thigh, going for a sarcastic, slightly mocking gesture, but it misses the mark entirely. For one, Simon freezes straight away and coughs a little, spluttering. This takes Nathan off guard with how unexpectedly adorable it is, and instead of removing his hand from the kid’s thigh he lets it rest there for a second too long, so that it crosses the boundaries from silly to serious.

 

And all this time Nathan is thinking, ‘oh fuck this is weird my hand has been on his leg for far too long what do I do shit how do I bring this back and make it not weird.’

 

But then Simon turns to him, half his face in shadow, his lips damp and slightly parted, his eyes very blue, and he says in a softly puzzled voice, “Nathan?” and Nathan can’t help but think that maybe bringing it back and salvaging the situation isn’t what he wants.

 

He leans forward and kisses Simon, softly at first just on the side of the mouth. When he pulls back he only moves a small distance away, and their faces are so close that they’re breathing in the same air. It’s heady and delicious and knowing that he’s the first person to do this to Simon - the only person to have touched him like this - sends a thrill down Nathan’s spine that he can’t even hope to deny.

 

“Shh,” Nathan murmurs against Simon’s lips. Simon’s eyes are open: wide, like a startled animal. He looks seconds away from standing up and bolting, but there’s something else in that expression as well. A flicker of some unnamed emotion behind his eyes that makes Nathan braver, spurs him on.

 

Without second guessing himself, Nathan leans forward again and this time presses their lips firmly together. Simon isn’t kissing back yet but he also isn’t pulling away, so Nathan slides a hand up his chest and curling it around the back of the boy’s neck so he can tilt his head just so and get a better angle. Simon makes a surprised little squeak at the first wet slide of their tongues together and instinctively jerks his head back.

 

“What are you doing?” He asks Nathan, alarmed.

 

“Relax,” Nathan replies in hushed tones. It feels like some alternate-dimension like atmosphere has settled over them, and talking too loudly will break the illusion where they can be together like this without dire consequences.

 

(Mainly the consequences would be to Nathan’s social life, but still.)

 

“Just… go with it, yeah?” He says, before latching onto a patch of skin under Simon’s jaw with his teeth. Simon lets out a small noise of what is probably appreciation and his hands flutter like trapped birds, finally settling on Nathan’s shoulders. He doesn’t pull Nathan in but he also doesn’t push him away either, and that’s got the be counted as a half success of some kind, right?

 

Simon seems to be unconsciously tilting his neck for easier access. That’s just very polite of him, Nathan thinks, and redoubles his efforts. Simon’s whole body jerks when Nathan nips his skin playfully. As entertaining as it is to see the weird kid get all flustered under Nathan’s lips and tongue, this seems to jolt him back into the real world.

 

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” He says hurriedly like he’s afraid he’ll lose his resolve or won’t be able to get the words out. He continues when Nathan doesn’t give up. “Nathan, really, I don’t think you should be—”

 

Nathan lets out a frustrated groan and, in a fit of ultimate rebellion, swings a leg over Simon’s so that his knees are on either side of the boy’s hips and his ass is resting on Simon’s thighs. Nathan places a hand on both of Simon’s shoulders and leans back to assess the situation.

 

Simon’s eyes are wide in a sort of panicked, stressed way, but his pupils are also massively dilated and Nathan is sitting on something that he is almost certain is a boner. Mixed signals much?

 

Like this it’s much more difficult to ravage Simon, purely because they’re eye to eye now and the urge to kiss him slowly and thoroughly is overwhelming. In an uncharacteristically tender gesture, Nathan traces Simon’s cheekbone with a single finger, follows the natural curve of his jaw until its resting under his chin, and then tips his face up. This time the kiss is ten times better. Nathan sucks gently first on Simon’s bottom lip and then on his tongue, because this time Simon even tries to kiss back.

 

He’s clumsy and shy, but shy is definitely better than overeager. He opens his mouth and lets Nathan take the lead, sliding his tongue tentatively along Nathan’s whenever Nathan does and slowly getting more and more passionate. It isn’t long before Nathan senses Simon’s hand drifting downwards, and he pulls away in time to see the boy adjusting the crotch area of his jeans awkwardly.

 

In all honesty, Nathan has never been one for slow or steady, so really he doesn’t know why Simon looks so surprised when Nathan reaches out and presses him palm down over the boy’s cock through his trousers. Simon yelps, eyes fluttering closed briefly as his head falls back and reveals a long, pale neck that Nathan desperately needs to mark up. His hand flies forward to hold Nathan’s in a death grip, not moving it but not letting it move either.

 

“Simon.” Nathan sighs. “Do you trust me?”

 

“No?” Simon replies doubtfully, like that question shouldn’t even need to be asked. Nathan probably had that coming.

 

“Yeah, probably for the best.” He acknowledges. “But seriously, just because you don’t trust me doesn’t mean I can’t give you the best handjob of your life. Honestly, it’ll ruin you for wanking, you’ll never want to wank every again when you know what my hand feels like. Actually if you wanted to get religious—”

 

“God, please stop talking.” Simon cries - with a tad of desperation, Nathan notes - and involuntarily shifts his hips so that his cock has more pressure from their hands. Nathan takes that as all the invitation he needs.

 

Nathan unzips Simon’s trousers and takes a second to admire the view - in reality he just likes torturing Simon for that little bit longer - before making a split second decision. It’s been ages since he blew anyone, but Simon is a virgin and looks worked up enough to come apart any second, so he doubts his blowjob skills will be under attack any time soon.

 

He pulls Simon’s underwear down slowly, noticing the wet patch forming through the fabric, and without warning scoots himself far enough backwards that he can lean down comfortably and take the head of Simon’s cock into his mouth. Simon lets out a ragged breath and a sob, hips jerking straight away. The muscles in his thighs are twitching uncontrollably and Nathan does feel pretty proud of himself for being able to reduce Simon of the ironed shirts and neat collars to a sobbing, pleading mess.

 

Nathan’s attempt to take Simon’s cock further down his throat ends up with him spluttering a little and having to pull off. To make up for it he sucks a messy, wet, open mouthed kiss onto the tip and digs his tongue into the slit as another bead of precome appears. One of Simon’s hands works it’s way into Nathan’s mop of hair and tries to tug him upwards.

 

“Nathan,” his chest heaves. “I’m gonna come.” He sounds breathless and ruined already, and Nathan loves it.

 

Nathan wraps his hand around Simon’s cock, still wet from his mouth, and jerks his off hard and fast. Just because he’s sucked cock before doesn’t mean he wants to swallow a mouthful of Simon’s come, but that’s no reason not to make this the best orgasm the kid has ever had. Within seconds Simon’s cock is pulsing in Nathan’s hand and he lets out a long moan as he comes in spurts over Nathan’s fingers.

 

By the time Simon is done shaking through his aftershocks it’s clear that he’s going to be too exhausted to do anything, so Nathan takes it upon himself to get off. He only manages to stroke himself a few times before he’s coming too, wound up by the sight and the sounds Simon made.

Nathan falls back against the mattress heavily, panting to try and catch his breath. This was unexpected but not entirely unwelcome, and Nathan thinks that as long as nobody finds out that he sucked the weird kid’s cock then he wouldn’t mind doing this again. And again, and again.

 

“What… was that?” Simon asks eventually, lying down stiffly next to Nathan. Nathan is slipping into the realm of unconsciousness, and he really doesn’t want to get into a big life-decisions conversation right now so he grunts in response and snuggles further into Simon’s side, pushing his face into his neck.

 

“Just shhh.” He replies sleepily.

 

And when Nathan sneaks his own hand into Simon’s hand later on in the night, Simon doesn’t shake him off. He counts that as a win.

**Author's Note:**

> should I write a series? Or more one shots? Or a chaptered fic? Or give up on my hopes and dreams?? Let me know <3


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